Blue Monkey Bar
by blood of the ninja
Summary: Germany x Reader - Just an innocent trip to the bar


The sun was only beginning to set as you walk your way down the tree lined street. Ahead of you three men seem to be arguing, though you know better. Feliciano is offering bar suggestions, Gilbert is contradicting with 'awesome' alternatives and Ludwig is trying to get them to agree on anything while simultaneously screaming. You sigh, it's not always like this when the group of you goes out to drink, but lately it seems to be getting worse. Ludwig is more easily irritated, Feliciano is nervous because Ludwig is mad, and Gilbert is… always just Gilbert.

Next to you Kiku mirrors your sigh. He's tended to hang back with you lately, if only to avoid the conflict. You can't blame him though. As much as you like Ludwig, he's intimidating when he's angry. When his face is flush with emotion, and he has that stern frown, damn but he is fine. You groan as they stall on the corner, debating which direction to go.

"You're driving me to drink, if we could _decide_ where to drink," you proclaim as you approach them. "How about this: first bar we see?"

"I agree. This is out of hand," Kiku adds, pointing down the street to a bar. Some of the letters are flickering, but there's no line to get in. "Blue Monkey Bar?"

"Yay! I've heard good things about their pasta!" Feliciano turns to Ludwig, tugging his sleeve to emphasis. Ludwig hesitates, and appears ready to argue when you interrupt.

"Three to two, we'll go to the Blue Monkey!" You're arms wave in the air, bringing them down to point in the direction of the bar. As you pass them you loop an arm through each of Feliciano's and Ludwig's. There's something about Ludwig's strong arms that makes you want to do naughty things to him, rub your chest against his bicep just to see him blush. And his accent, you could hear him say your name all day long, and then listen to him moan it that night.

If you were on intimate terms with him. You are not though. You manfully shake those thoughts from your head. Tonight is about drinking, not day dreaming about your super hot friend's abs and...man bits. Tonight is about getting drunk with your friends, then stumbling home to Gilbert and Ludwig's house. Safety first.

You feel Ludwig lagging behind while you enthusiastically plow your way toward the bar. You turn back to offer encouragement, but the look he gives you, it's like your heart just got sucker punched. He looks so pissed. You release him, a little dumbfounded as Feliciano carries you along with his momentum. What the hell? Well, forget him then. You don't need a sour faced German getting in the way of a good night. Though you'd love for him to be a part of it.

But you can't help but remember that look. It's going to haunt you. You sneak a look back as you and Feliciano approach the door. Still stern, but not the anger he was showing earlier. Had you done something wrong? Let it go, you tell yourself, and enter the bar with your Italian friend.

It's a surprisingly clean establishment, bar stools that all match, booths with working light fixtures, and relatively unused dart boards and billiards tables. This could become a regular hang out if the bathrooms are half as nice as the rest of this place. Not long after you and Feliciano snag a booth a pretty waitress arrives. She's wearing a tight black tank top and tight jean short. She looks poured into her outfit and you can't help but feel a little jealous.

You order the first round of beers knowing the others will reciprocate with the exception of Feliciano. He never pays, but at this point you can't really hold it against him.

"Over here! We're here!" Feliciano shouts as your other friends enter. He picked the side of the booth facing the door, so you're forced to twist in your seat to watch as they approach. Gilbert and Kiku slide into the same side as Feliciano, which leaves Ludwig to share your bench. He seems to balk at first, but slowly sits next to you with no comment. It's a bit closer than you thought he would, but he doesn't readjust or move away. His body against yours brings back all those thoughts you were having earlier: touching the strong line of his jaw or running your fingers through is perfect, silky hair, licking his throat until he moans.

The beers arrive in time to stop you from falling too deeply into a dangerous day dream. Everyone grabs one and you offer a toast, "To not remembering in the morning!"

"Prost!" the German brothers shout as all your glasses clink. The first drink is deep and satisfying. You can't help but watch as Ludwig's throat works. God but he's beautiful.

The strange thing though, is you don't remember much of that night. Lots of drinks and pasta, the other half of the table leaves early and it's just you and Ludwig. Ludwig, who seems to loom. And his blue eyes that seem to notice everything about you. His eyes linger on the low cut of your shirt, the way your hand holds the beer mug, the curve of you lips as they smile. He does it all with a frown, but you can't help feel, though intense, it's not disapproving.

"Shall ve go?" he asks as another round of beer is finished. "Zhe others have left, perhaps ve should also make our vay home?"

"Certainly!" you nod cheerfully, while he leaves a generous tip for the waitress. She deserves it after dealing with the posturing of Gilbert and the bad pick up lines of Feliciano. Poor girls don't know what they're getting when the boys show up.

The two of you stumble out the door and down the street. Now that you're not surrounded by bar noise, Ludwig is quiet, contemplative. His brow is furrowed like he's making a decision. You love that serious look, like he's going to propose something mind blowing.

You smile up at him as he turns to you. He's taken aback for a moment and you realize he caught you watching him. The beer, however, makes you not care because who remembers things like that in the morning? His face clears and he gives a small smile in return and you almost melt. You love his smile even more than his serious face.

He stops dead in his tracks, pulling you to a stop with him. You blink slowly. Oh God! You said that out loud! The shit about his smile! Run! You brain shouts, but the hold he has on your arm is too tight. Too tight for escape. His smile turns into a grin, then a laugh. He's laughing at you.

You try to muster insult, but fail, instead you laugh with him. Why the hell not? Without realizing it, his face is near yours, blue eyes glittering. His hand runs along your jaw line, holding your head steady. His first kiss is light, tentative, but his next one harder, hungry, demanding. Warmth spreads through your body and your heart leaps. You open your mouth to him and the kiss deepens. His hand slides around from your jaw to the back of your head, pushing you into him, or him into you. Your fingers run through is hair, as the other arm wraps around his waist. The two of you pressed together on a deserted street, a block away from his house, kissing like fools.

You press your body into his and feel the moan building in him. His desire, hard against your belly, stiff and eager. Each of you comes away from the embrace breathless, starry eyed, but still clutching each other.

"I thought you were mad at me," you whisper. Confusion crosses his features, then realization.

"Nein, not you. Myself," he swallows. "How to tell you I vanted zhis night to be vunderbar, to tell you..."

You tilt your head to continue looking into his eyes. You smile encouragement.

"I vould like to sit next to you," he finishes. You both laugh at that. His simple desire and yours turned into so much more, or would anyway.


End file.
